Grand Game 246: The Shadow Behind the Curtain (Patreon)

I awoke with a gasp, my eyes wide and unseeing, and my breath coming in uncontrolled bursts. I was alive. No. I was dead. I’d died. Brutally staked through the heart.

No.

I had died, yes—but by my own hand. Or at the hand of my minion rather. Death had been preferable. Now though, I was alive. Rising shakily to my feet, I studied my surroundings.

I was in the same cell I’d resurrected in before—what had Stonebeard named it? The southeast watchtower, that was it—but this time, the cell’s doors were open, and no guard had been posted.

Fishing out ebonheart, I climbed out of the rebirth well. My quivering arms and trembling legs made that more difficult than necessary. My body was still reliving its death throes, I realized.

Drawing to a halt, I took a deep, steadying breath and, while I waited to recover, pulled up the flashing Game messages.

You have been reborn. Lives remaining: 2. Time lost during resurrection: 8 hours. Rebirth location: sector 1 safe zone. One soul bond item has been restored.

You have reached level 131!

Your dodging has increased to level 108. Your shortswords has increased to level 114. Your telekinesis has increased to level 110. Your telepathy has increased to level 106. Your null force has increased to 12.

I’d earned two levels in the encounter with the mantises, and interestingly enough, my null force skill had increased too. Those spells I’d failed to resist, I mused, they must have been dark magic.

The mantises had been prepared for the encounter—too prepared—and if not for my advancements in the dungeon, I doubted I would’ve been able to escape their trap. But while I found the assassins’ knowledge of my abilities unsettling, I also drew comfort from it. My foes knew more about me than they should, but at the same time, their information was incomplete.

They are not infallible, I thought.

Returning to the Game messages, I considered my new attribute points. My new Class had been of little help in the confrontation, but that was because my void mage skills were yet too low to provide any meaningful resistance.

Still, increasing my Magic at this stage is not going to yield any benefits. Better to invest in something else.

Mind was my attribute of choice, yet Dexterity was the one most lacking in slots. I would need to purchase tier three abilities soon, so it made sense to invest further in it first. That’s what I’ll do, I decided.

Your Dexterity has increased to rank 36.

My player progression seen to, I dismissed the Game messages and turned my attention outwards again. Having something else to focus on had helped, and my body’s shivering had eased.

Feeling ready to face the world again, I strolled through the open cell doors.

✵ ✵ ✵

The encounter with the mantises had made one thing clear: despite being absent from Nexus for nigh on a year, little has changed, at least as related to my own circumstances. If I needed the reminder, the assassins had been it—I was still hunted.

My suspicions on how had crystalized, and now I was all but certain who sought out my death. The why, though, still mystified me. But I wouldn’t let not knowing stop me.

It was time to put the plan that I’d hatched what seemed like an eternity ago into play. To do that, I first needed to visit the Albion Bank.

The corridor the cell opened into was deserted, and reaching its end, I yanked open the door and stepped through. A lone figure awaited me in the room beyond.

It was Wilsh.

Stopping short, I studied the blackguard. The captain leaned against the opposite wall with his arms folded and a smirk on his face. There could be no doubt. He’d been expecting me.

“So,” Wilsh drawled. “I see the mantises got you.”

I shrugged indifferently. “It took them long enough.” I let a smile of my own stretch across my face. “And I’m fairly sure the score is still in my favor.”

Wilsh’s smirk faded. “That was only the beginning,” he said harshly. “The mantises have your measure now. They’ll find you again—count on it—and when they do, you will die horribly.” He laughed loudly. “I look forward to seeing you here again.”

I cocked my head to the side, a sudden suspicion forming. The blackguard’s comment implied he knew the details of my fight with the assassins. How did he know that, and for that matter, what had prompted him to wait for me here? “You know, don’t you?”

Confusion marred the blackguard captain’s face. “Know what?”

“Who sent the mantises after me,” I said coldly. “You’re working for him,” I added with conviction.

Wilsh wiped his face clean of expression, but not quickly enough to hide the tiny start of fear my words provoked. “Of course, I know who wants you dead!” he blustered, trying to cover up his slip. “Every Dark player knows about the noob who foiled the Awakened Dead’s plans. Erebus wants your blood—badly.”

My lips twitched. Wilsh had just confirmed he knew my true identity. “But the Awakened Dead don’t know I’m in the city, do they?” I was only guessing, but I didn’t think I was wrong. “In fact, I’m sure if I asked around, I’d find out you didn’t report my arrival to your superiors.”

“And why would any Darksworn want to speak to you?” Wilsh sneered.

I smiled. “You may be surprised by who is willing to speak to me.” Not waiting for his response, I resumed walking. The encounter with the blackguard captain had been fortuitous, and I’d acquired an interesting tidbit of information, but now it was time to leave.

“Oh, and Wilsh?” I began as I brushed past the captain. “If I was you, I’d leave the city. Once the Dark learns you’re a traitor, who knows, they may even set the mantises hunting you.”

Wilsh blanched before his face stiffened again. “You don’t scare me!” he shouted.

Saying nothing, I left the watchtower.

✵ ✵ ✵

For the second time, I walked the streets of Nexus in a newbie shirt and shorts. This time, though, I did so proudly. With my head thrown back, and ebonheart by my side, I ignored the titters and mockery of passing players as I strolled towards the Albion Bank.

Before I moved on my plan, I wanted to be certain of my suppositions. The bank would provide me with the final confirmation I needed. I didn’t really require it, but I’d been proved wrong about the mantises more than once already and felt the abundance of caution warranted.

And besides, I was a little anxious about what I planned. Once I set things in motion, there would be no going back, and if things didn’t turn out as I hoped, the consequences could be catastrophic. Still, I couldn’t keep going on like I was. I had to stop the mantises’ hunt.

Reaching the building cloaked in water, I skipped across the stone bridge and through the open doors. Nothing had changed since my last visit. The occupants had the same air of subdued industriousness, and the rune-inscribed watchers were exactly as I remembered.

Ignoring the startled glances of the few customers about, I made for the closest magical device, stepping boldly through its frame. As expected, my actions triggered an avalanche of Game alerts.

Watcher activated. Scanning commencing…

…

You have failed a magical resistance check.

You have failed a mental resistance check.

You have failed a physical resistance check.

…

Scans completed.

Anomalous spells detected! Potential threat—

Alert aborted. An exception has been lodged with respect to this player.

Once more, hidden doorways in the foyer opened, and guards spilled out despite the threat warning being rescinded. I sighed, knowing what would come next.

Sure enough, the guards tackled me with mitten gloves. They left my mouth uncovered, but I suffered their ministrations stoically and said nothing as they carried me into the adjacent interrogation room.

I sat there waiting for five long minutes with no one showing up. Finally losing patience, I glanced at the nearest guard. “Get Devlin,” I snapped.

The guard in question gave no sign of having heard me, but I noticed one of his fellows shifting minutely. I turned to him. “You recognize me, don’t you? If you do, you’ll remember that Viviane herself made an exception for me. I doubt she’ll be pleased to find her orders being ignored.”

The guard fidgeted but remained silent. My words prompted the one opposite him to speak up, though. “That true, Shayne?”

“Yessir,” Shayne replied. “The Lady gave him her token.”

That seems to decide the squad leader. “Release him.” He jerked his thumb at Shayne. “And go and get Devlin.”

Satisfied, I leaned back in my chair and waited.

✵ ✵ ✵

A short while later, the blue-scaled bank manager marched into the room. He stopped short as he caught sight of me, then, with an audible sigh, seated himself in the chair opposite me. “I didn’t think it was possible, but I see it’s true. Welcome back, Michael.”

I frowned at him. “That’s an odd sort of greeting. What do you mean?”

“No matter,” Devlin said, waving off my words. “I see you’re determined to keep creating a stir.” He threw me a pained look. “Couldn’t you have chosen a less inconspicuous approach?”

I shrugged. “I needed to see you, and it couldn’t wait.”

Devlin’s gills trilled outwards. “See me? Why?” He grimaced, taking in my state of undress. “If this is about a loan or a request for—”

“Nothing like that,” I said, cutting him off. I leaned across the table. “I have only one question for you.”

Devlin frowned, but he said nothing as he waited for me to go on.

“What spells did the Watcher detect on me?” I asked.

Devlin’s eyebrows shot upward. Whatever he was expecting me to ask, it was not that. “Why do you wish to know?”

“Humor me, please.”

The bank manager stared at me for a drawn-out moment, then shrugged. “Loken’s tracking spell, obviously.”

I nodded. “And?”

Devlin’s eyes narrowed. “And? And nothing.” He paused. “Were you expecting something else?” Before I could respond, he went on. “Michael,” he said, his voice sounding strained, “please don’t tell me you’ve just used our bank as a magical detector?”

I smiled crookedly. “I won’t, then.”

The bank manager dropped his head in his palms, his gills quivering. I couldn’t tell if he was laughing or crying.

I rose from my chair. “Thanks for your help, Devlin. It’s time I got going.”

The bank manager raised his head. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” I agreed.

Devlin stared at me for a moment longer and sighed. “Until next time,” he said in farewell.

✵ ✵ ✵

I left the bank, my head bowed and deep in thought. Devlin and the magical Watcher had confirmed exactly what I’d suspected. There was only a single spell upon me: Loken’s.

It was the final confirmation I needed. I now knew how the mantises were tracking me. And, more importantly, who had sent them.

It could only be Loken.

Originally, I’d believed Ishita was responsible. But the longer the assassins’ hunt went on, the more improbable that seemed. Ishita had no means of tracking me, and whatever the spider goddess was, she was not subtle. If the Awakened Dead knew I was in Nexus, I was sure I would have encountered some of their own Darksworn before now. Yet, I hadn’t.

Which brought me back to Loken.

Only the Shadow Power could track my movements. Only he could’ve told the mantises when I’d entered the scorching dune dungeons, when I’d been in the Triumvirate citadel, and when I would exit the guardian tower.

Loken was the one who’d set the mantises on me. I was certain of it.

The next question, of course, was, why did the trickster want me dead? Only one reason came to mind. And no matter how much I tried to come up with another explanation—any other explanation—I could think of only one thing that would cause Loken to abandon his other plans for me and seek my death.

He knew of my bloodline.

Loken knew I belonged to House Wolf.